I've blown out my last fickle flames;
throwing my past over my shoulder
and glancing back at those last million miles.
My clothes dusty, dirty, bloody, bright, clean.
Hands in my empty pockets
with hair whipping back in protest
and those blue eyes still burning.
Well washed, well worn, well torn.
Walking on, scraping by on love.
There were stumbles so light
with falls so deafening great.
Grasping, searching for a stronger meaning.
The answer that could never be found.
Following the fading shadows of an angel.
Tracing tongues on cracked and bleeding lips.
The tears, the scrapes, the fears, the falls.
Beating on doors, not to be forgotten.
Needing something to believe in, to begin.
Judgment and Fate for an only compass
What an unforgiving path weathered.
The rain pours of sorrow and grief
The coldness of another's heart and taste of disappointment
The warmth of a ring and a pack surrounding
The heat of a flush and a storming tempest raging inside.
All about going down swinging
Dust in the mouth of bitterness
All about pushing on through
With hope in the eyes of a child.
Millions of miles. A million miles.
Stars, hearts, and scars.
A bittersweet smile
and those blue eyes still burning on.
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